Handful of Days
by Nightmelody
Summary: Trilogy complete--Ritual of Fire and Ice, Handful of Days, Christmas in Prague.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Handful of Days

Author: Nightmelody

Email:nightmelody@hotmail.com

Season Seven, Au ending

Rating:pg13

Sequel to 'Ritual of Fire and Ice'

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


HANDFUL OF DAYS

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Buffy woke tangled in Spike's arms and the soft white comforter.

Spike was still asleep, his arm around her waist, one hand wrapped in her hair. Everything was silent.

  
  


But the air felt ...different . Buffy could see darting, speeding specks of color in the night. The magic, she thought. Left over from the ritual, which had worked. It had really worked! And it had been so easy, compared to Glory, or even the Ubervamp.

  
  


"Easy! Do you know how many impossible variables had to come together for that ritual?"

  
  


Started, Buffy turned to face a man. Or a being. Kind of a glowy white Alfred E. Newman kind of guy.

  
  


"Who are you?" She tried to shake Spike awake but he just rolled over on his stomach with what sounded like a snore. Did vampires snore?

  
  


"Hmmm, who am I? I've got lots of names. I guess you can think of me as Gabriel. Or Apollo, though that name is out of fashion."

  
  


"I like Alfred," Buffy muttered."What are you doing here?"

  
  


"I have a duty. A mission, if you will. The world has changed."

  
  


With a wave of his hand the wall just kind of dissolved, and Buffy had a view that could not be seen from the Summer's house, a view of the horizon, far above the ground. She could see whole cities, and waves and swirls of color crackled all through the night sky.

  
  


"Is this the apocalypse?" She asked.

  
  


"Nope. You and your lover stopped that. This is the new order. The world has changed. Right now it's in a state of disarray."

  
  


"Is that dangerous?"

  
  


"Not really. No more than natural life is dangerous. Some deaths will happen, some births, too."

  
  


"But the First Evil has been stopped."

  
  


Alfred grinned."Oh, yes. Totally dispersed. Not enough molecules left to even be angry about it. Doing the chaos dance, now."

  
  


"The chaos dance?"

  
  


"A term you probably don't understand. Public schools really don't get it. Chaos is necessary to order. The creative spark and all. Order just doesn't have that spark."

  
  


"So the world's all sparky right now." 

  
  


"Yes, thanks to you and Spike. And to many others along the way."

  
  


"Others?"

  
  


"Yes, like Angelus and the gypsy. Quite a dance of misdirection there. Vampire with a soul, ooo,ahhh. Evil became too orderly over time. Couldn't see outside the box. Didn't see that one coming until it was too late." Alfred waved his glowy hand toward Spike.

  
  


"Still didn't get it, could have staked him a dozen times! Fatal error, there."

  
  


"And you," he continued. "Every time you didn't stake him it was a small miracle. I thought he was a goner in that alley. And we had no replacements."

  
  


"So no Spike, no ritual? Not one of the other guys would do?"

  
  


"Nope. No power with them, no fire. You'd have frozen 'em."

  
  


"What! I was the fire, the human! Spike was the ice, the vampire!"

  
  


Alfred laughed. "You just keep telling yourself that, honey! But we both know who lived life completely outside the box, a life of risk. You made a foray now and then, but you lived a life of duty. He lived on the edge of chaos all his undead life. That's fire."

  
  


"So why are you here now?"

  
  


"Well, Buffy, you can't stay here, on this plane."

  
  


"You're here to kill me?" She tried once again to wake Spike up.

  
  


"Slayers." Alfred shook his head in disgust. "So negative. Just the opposite! Your gift is life! Behold!"

  
  


With another wave of his hand the view of the earth dissolved and before them was a garden with trees set back on one side, masses of wild flowers and a meadow, hedge roses, small formal beds here and there with stone paths and bench seats all around. In the far distance was a Grecian style house of white stone, and beyond that a body of water. The sea?

  
  


"What's this place?"

  
  


"Your realm. Like your own personal heaven. For eternity."

  
  


"But I'm not dead?"

  
  


"Nope. You never will die. Wasn't twice enough?"

"Yeah. Yeah twice was enough." She couldn't take her eyes off the peaceful beauty in front of her. "But what about my responsibilities? What about Dawn? And Spike? I just can't leave them!"

  
  


"Dawn will be all right, especially if she knows you're at peace, happy. And Spike-he always wanted you happy, even more than he wanted you with him. He has a mission to fulfill, now, in life. He's not ready for eternity yet. Couldn't be at peace. And someday he can join you here."

  
  


"Join me? I won't be alone?

  
  


"Well, how heavenly would that be?" Alfred nodded his head toward the trees. Two women stepped out from the trees into the meadow. Joyce and Tara were dressed in long flowing Grecian style gowns and carrying baskets of fruit.

  
  


"Mom? Tara?" Buffy started toward them but hesitated, looking at the sleeping Spike.

  
  


"Can you wake him up? So he knows?"

  
  


"He's dreaming it. But, all right. Do you want the others here, too?"

  
  


She nodded, speechless.

  
  


Spike sat up. Buffy realized she was now gowned and tossed him the comforter. He wrapped it around himself and opened his mouth to begin talking when Dawn tumbled through the door, followed by Willow pushing Xander's chair.

  
  


Dawn glanced through the room and saw her mother. She tried to run to her but an invisible wall stopped her.

  
  


"Mom! Buffy, there's Mom!"

  
  


"What's going on?" Spike yelled.

  
  


"Tara?" Willow joined Dawn at the wall.

  
  


"Are we dead?" Spike asked Alfred.

  
  


"You are, undead, anyway. But no, none of you die today."

  
  


"This is some kind of higher power, guys. I'm calling him Alfred," said Buffy. "He says I have my own heavenly realm, and I get to live there forever."

  
  


"With Mom and Tara? Do I get to come?" Dawn asked.

  
  


"When your life here is over, you can join Buffy for eternity, if you continue on this path."

  
  


"Path? What does that mean?" Dawn asked.

  
  


"You know, help the helpless, fight the good fight."

  
  


"Like be a slayer?" Dawn asked.

  
  


"No, there will be little need for slayers for a long time to come. Evil has been dispersed. Ten thousand years of planning, of millions of small insignificant right decisions culminated in last night's impossible marriage."

  
  


"So evil is gone? There's only good?" Xander looked skeptical.

  
  


"We're married?" Buffy didn't look too upset about it.

  
  


"There's still free will." Alfred spoke to Xander. "Plenty of room for evil there. And evil intent can seek out mystical evil, rebuild it in some form or another."

  
  


"And yes," he said to Buffy. "Sacred marriage. Not a church wedding, but still, it has it's own charm."

  
  


"So when we die we go to Buffy's heaven?" Spike asked.

  
  


"Yes, as long as your will remains to do good, not evil."

  
  


"And Buffy can't stay here?"

  
  


"Nope. Her coming back opened the door to the First. Her place is ...otherwhere,now. She's earned it. As soon as the fabric of reality organizes, she'll be there, you'll be here. So it must be."

  
  


"Can we visit? Can we see them? While the fabric is disorganized?" Willow asked.

  
  


"Yes, I can make that happen. But as soon as it reorganizes, in a day or two, or a week, you will be here, Buffy will be there."

  
  


Alfred waved his arm toward the missing wall.

  
  


"You may cross." 

  
  


He tapped Xander on the arm as Willow rolled him past.

  
  


"In Buffy's realm, you'll be whole. But when you return to this reality your injuries will return."

  
  


"I understand."

  
  


"Will I burn in that sun?" Spike asked.

  
  


"No, no suffering there."

  
  


So they crossed, Dawn leaping and bouncing to her mother, Willow running into Tara's arms, Xander striding tall and strong, Spike looking in wonder at the blue sky, at the sunlight shining on Buffy's hair...and everyone was hugging and talking at the same time.

  
  


"And just where are your clothes, young man?" Joyce skewered Spike with a glance, and then turned to Buffy, eyebrows raised.

  
  


"Uh, Mom, we've got something to tell you..."

  
  
  
  
  
  


Days later, Xander and Spike sat on the white stone patio, drinking sweet wine and fruit juice nectar, watching the girls play a game of bubble ball, some type of heavenly volleyball that involved lots of laughter.

  
  


"Don't you hate to leave here, leave her? We won't be here much longer," Xander said.

  
  


"I know. But I can't stay and I'd never take Buffy away from this, even if I could."

  
  


"You wouldn't want her with you?"

  
  


Spike was silent for awhile. Then he spoke. "How many times have you seen Buffy happy?"

  
  


"I don't know." Xander spoke slowly.

  
  


"I've seen her happy a handful times. Five times. That's all."

  
  


" The first time was that spell of Willow's. You know, the one where we thought we were engaged. She was so happy. So was I. It was like, all was right with the world... Even after that spell was over, I never could forget that. Always wanted to make her happy again, like that, but I never did have the knack."

  
  


"Then, when her mom got out of the hospital, and she seemed okay.

Buffy was happy then for a little while..." His voice trailed off.

  
  


They both knew how that had turned out.

  
  


"The third time was your wedding day. She was wearing that hideous dress, but she was so beautiful, because she was happy. I loved seeing her that way. That's why I left, before I could do something to ruin it."

  
  


They both knew who ruined it.

  
  


"The next wasn't like that, but she was still happy. When she rescued me from the First. We were both so...damaged, in so many ways, but still happy. For a little while."

  
  


"Last was the ritual. When it was done, and she knew we loved each other, and it had worked, she was happy."

  
  


"How many lives did she save? Never taking a vacation, never resting...Always gore and demon slime and graveyards and Big Bads determined to kill her and her friends... Heck, even Dru, who was evil undead and crazy besides, had more happy times than Buffy did." 

  
  


"Think of the things she can do here! She can swim like a mermaid, have a dolphin for a pet, picnic with her Mom and Tara... She's going to learn to spin and make tapestries...There's nothing else good enough for her, nothing in our world. Not me."

  
  


"She loves you."

  
  


"She does." He grinned and wiggled his fingers at Buffy, who was looking to see if he'd seen her big score.

  
  


"But the time wasn't right for us. Too much pain, too much violence. Not to mention the whole Urn of Osiris trouble." 

  
  


"And I have things I need to do, to make up for my past." 

  
  


"She won't miss me, you know. To her the time apart won't even matter." Spike's eyes followed her every move, making a memory.

  
  


The girls were done with their game and insisted they needed to cool off at the beach.

  
  


"Come on, Spike. We can swim to our little island." Buffy gulped his drink and smiled at him, innocent and naughty at the same time.

  
  


He leaped up , grinning. "Race ya!" They flew down the white stairs to the sand, way head of everyone else.

  
  


"We won't be here much longer," Xander said to Joyce. 

  
  


She patted his hand. "You'll be back, before you know it. Life is so short...and this is eternity.

Don't be sad. It will all work out."

  
  


She linked her arm through his and they walked toward the beach.

"Come on. Let's go see if we can call Buffy's dolphins. Have you ridden one yet?"

  
  
  
  
  
  


The End

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Christmas in Prague

Author's note: This is the third and final part to 'Ritual of Fire and Ice' and 'Handful of Days', and the end of this trilogy. Thanks for all the encouraging comments.

Nightmelody

  
  
  
  
  
  


Christmas in Prague

  
  
  
  
  
  


It was late afternoon on Christmas Eve, in the ancient city of Prague. Traffic in the city center was already heavy, as people rushed home to their families and to Christmas Eve festivities.

  
  


Spike walked slowly through the city, marveling at its beauty. It had been more than a century since he had last been here, during that last time with Dru. And then they had ended up in Sunnydale...and his life had changed.

  
  


He'd never seen the city in daylight, of course, but even at night he had enjoyed the arched doorways, the decorative brick work of the finely crafted buildings. City planners in the States should be required to see Prague. And now he was getting to see it in late afternoon sunlight, to see the play of light and shadow.

  
  


Carolers sang in front of the statue of Good King Wenceslas. The city was full of holiday cheer. Tonight, all the churches in town would have the ornate midnight masses they were famed for, and the heavy clouds overhead were supposed to bring snow.

  
  


Snow, in Prague, on Christmas Eve. What a beautiful night to be his last.

  
  


Spike's hands and feet were freezing before he got back to his hotel room. He had forgotten that he was no longer invulnerable to cold weather, and had neglected to buy gloves or boots. But it didn't matter. He'd only be here a little while.

  
  


Dru was still asleep. He'd been forced to drug her during this whole trip, because she was now far stronger than he. But soon she would wake up, and he would take her to see the sights of her beloved city.

  
  


"Prague! We're in Prague. Oh, my dear boy! I will kiss you even though you're so warm! You brought me home!"

  
  


Spike held the cup of blood to her lips-human blood, from a blood bank. Dru would not drink animal blood. She sipped obediently

  
  


He helped her dress, in a lovely red velvet gown. He did her hair, just like the old days, and applied her makeup. The drugs, supplied by Wolfram and Hart, made her nicely compliant.

  
  


"Do you remember what we're going to do tonight? What Angel wanted us to do?"

  
  


"Yes." She smiled a dreamy smile, and spoke in a sing song voice. "Angel wants me to recreate you. At midnight. In Prague. How did you get turned back into a human, anyway?"

  
  


"Dunno, pet. Some strange magic." He hoped the drugs dimmed her enough that she couldn't tell he was lying. Didn't want her getting angry, not at this point.

  
  


"The same magic that killed my dark sire?"

  
  


"Related, I believe. Perhaps we will learn more as time goes by."

  
  


"Yes. And we are in the city of time. Can we see my clock? I want to see what time it is."

  
  


He knew she meant the astronomical clock. She always thought it told her the future.

  
  


Later he her helped her into a warm white cashmere coat and hat. She was delighted with it and stroked it as they walked the city streets. Snow was now drifting down, large white flakes that swiftly covered the city.

  
  


They walked to her clock. "Tonight is a special alignment," she told him. "Special for my prince."

  
  


"Oh Spike," Dru said, twirling in the falling snow like a dancer. "The snow covers the darkness of the world tonight!" She smiled, delighted as a child.

  
  


"Of course, dear." They walked on through the city.

"And look where we are. This is where Angel told me we should do it."

  
  


They were in the courtyard of the convent Angel had investigated. The Little Sisters of Charity. A cloistered order.

  
  


"Listen!" Dru said, eyes sparking. "We can hear the choir. They sound like angels. Angel's! And we will sup from them, soon, my love."

  
  


"Yes, dear." He took her in his arms and they swayed together in a small dance in the drifting snow until the bells of the churches began to chime the midnight hour.

  
  


"Time, my love." He unzipped his coat and let it drop to the ground. Dru smiled and changed to her vampire face.

  
  


"Soon you will be my prince again," she said. Her fangs sank into his neck, and Spike wrapped his arms around her, feeling his life force drift away.

  
  


They slipped together to the soft snow, now several inches deep. Barely able to open his eyes, Spike looked at the girl now cradled in his arms. Her rosy lips opened to take in a breath of the winter air. He gently wiped the blood from her lips, the effort to move his hand enormous. His eyes drifted shut, and he held her, feeling the pulse of her blood, the breath she drew...

  
  


It had worked, was his last thought...Angel had transferred the shanshu to him, and he had transferred it, with an additional charm, to Dru. And now she would once again be the innocent girl she had been...before Angel...before ...

  
  


He drifted away gently, like the fall of snow.

  
  
  
  


The sisters discovered them the next day, when Sister Agnes went out to feed the birds on Christmas morning. The young man was dead, frozen. They eventually buried him in their convent graveyard.

  
  


The girl, though, survived by some miracle, perhaps kept warm by the man's covering body. She remembered nothing of her past, and there was no one who claimed her. She became Sister Beatrice, a saintly, gentle woman with great vision. It was she who established the Orphanages of Charity for the victims of foreign wars, all over the world, bringing hope to thousands of children. 

  
  


When she died, at a great age, she was buried next to the grave of the unknown man in the convent grave yard, as she requested.

  
  
  
  


***

  
  


A hard thump on his stomach woke Spike. His eyes flew open to find his mid section straddled by a tiny imp with honey colored hair in two skinny braids, dancing green eyes, and a snub nose. He estimated her age at about three years.

  
  


"Unca Spike!" She bounced again, causing him to curl up into a sitting position. She did not pronounce her 's ' sound precisely right, he noticed.

  
  


"Anna Grathe. You wathn't thuppothed to wake him up." A small, dark haired, chubby boy spoke, even less clearly than the little girl did. He ran out of the room.

  
  


It dawned on him, who the children were. Little Anna Grace and little Toby, Dawn's great grandchildren, who perished in the great quake of '63, the one that had destroyed much of southern California. He'd attended their memorial service.

  
  


Then he noticed his surroundings. A large room of white marble with an open broad doorway leading to a balcony. He could see just a glimpse of the blue green sea from where he sat.

  
  


A woman entered the room. Joyce, looking younger and more lovely than he remembered. "Spike!" she said, all smiles. "You're awake. Much earlier than Anya told us to expect you to be, thanks to these imps!" She gave a mock frown. The children grinned at him.

  
  


"Anya?" 

  
  


"She delivers the dead to their afterlives. When she's not working she visits Xander here."

  
  


"You children go outside. I think Dawn and Tara have something for you on the beach," she told the little ones. With shouts of delight the two children ran to the balcony, clambered over and dropped from sight. Their giggling voices drifted away.

  
  


"Buffy?"

  
  


"She's at the island. She took some things there while you slept, so the two of you could have a nice, private visit there for a while."

  
  


"Oh." He was both delighted and disappointed.

  
  


Joyce smiled. "If you go down to the beach and tell one of the dolphins you want to find Buffy, they'll deliver you to the island in no time. Just remember to hang on!"

  
  


Spike looked around for the door. The house had changed since he had been here before. 

  
  


"Just leap off the balcony, like the kids did," Joyce suggested. "It's the quickest way."

  
  


Spike leaped, delighting in his strength and grace. He ran to the beach and entered the warm water, waving at the children, Dawn, and Tara, as he did.

  
  


"Later!" Dawn called, and he nodded.

  
  


A silvery dolphin slid between his legs and he told it to find Buffy.

  
  


Soon he was there, at the small crescent beach. "Buffy! Buffy!" He shouted, and there she was, beautiful and golden in a sheer white gown, her hair shining in the sunlight. Then she was in his arms, sweet smelling and delicious and they were laughing and crying and kissing all at once.

  
  


"You were the last to arrive!" She exclaimed. "I waited and waited for you!"

  
  


"You don't know how much I wanted to be here," he said, caressing her face, her lips.

  
  


She nodded. "But you had to take care of Dru first."

  
  


"Yes. It's done, thanks to Angel."

  
  


"And now we're together for always. The dark days are past." Her eyes, soft and full of love, met his.

  
  


"Always," he agreed, his sapphire eyes glistening with joy as he looked into her eyes. "It was Christmas, that last night. Lovely, with snow falling." For some reason, it was important for her to know that the end hadn't been ugly.

  
  


"Christmas." Her eyes glowed with joy, and her hands squeezed his. " We can have Christmas here. Would you like that? To celebrate your arrival. With snow and hot chocolate, and presents!" Buffy held his hand and they walked toward the villa.

As they walked slowly, pausing along the way to laugh and kiss, snow flakes began to drift down around them. Spike stopped walking and looked up at the sky in surprise and delight.

  
  


"Come, my love," Buffy said, smiling. "There is a warm fire waiting for us. It will soon be Christmas!"

  
  
  
  
  
  


The End

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
